Sophie and Tahua full | nothing-but-truth

I would like to take this moment to convey a little about my friend Sophie who is very dear to me and who has taught me that friendship is beautiful to whoever really cares. It was meant in this world for people to share. Friendship is sadness and happiness all mixed into one. Friendship is laughter that ends with a tear. It’s affection for a human soon turned into love.

We have been corresponding for a few years now, which I have enjoyed greatly and I like to think that she has found it enjoyable too. We had the opportunity to meet in person last year and those hours we spent together I will forever cherish. I truly am grateful to have her in my life as well as to have the privilege of calling her my friend.

She inspires me to become better solely because of her approach to life. Her words are heartfelt. Her humour keeps me laughing and the thought of her brightens my days.

I appreciate her for all that she is and I’m thankful that she accepts me for all that I am.

I speak truly when I say that she has helped save both my sanity and my humanity.

So I say thank you my dear friend for taking the time to write. You are not just writing letters, you have changed a life.

But above all else thank you for your friendship.

Respectfully,

Tahua

A few years ago I was sitting on a train reading a copy of The Big Issue magazine and I saw an advert from an organization looking for people to become penfriends to prisoners on America’s Death Row. I made a note of the address and a few days later I wrote to them saying I was interested.

A few months later I received the name and address of my penfriend and I wrote to him introducing myself, telling him a little about me and asking him a little about himself. A couple of weeks later when I received his reply I was too nervous to open it so I took it to my sister’s house and we sat at the bottom of her stairs and I read it aloud. By the end of the letter we were both in tears. I never expected to feel so moved and humbled, but what I understood when I read his letter was that Tahua was a human being.

It sounds so obvious but even when you’re against the death penalty you can still think that these men and women on death row must all be in some way inhumane, a different species from the rest of us. Tahua wrote to me like any friend would. He talked about his family, his interests, he asked me questions about my work and what I liked to do in my spare time. It was just so normal, extraordinarily normal.The two things that stand out for me from that first letter are the beauty of his handwriting (My father had beautiful handwriting and so does Tahua.) and the knowledge that that letter and envelope had been in his hands, in America, in a prison cell, and now it was in my hands, in the UK, in the free world. In that moment I felt connected to him and responsible for the future of our friendship.

We’ve been writing for nearly 3 years now and I really look forward to receiving his letters, as well as worrying if I don’t hear from him for a while. He is a true friend to me. He makes me laugh out loud with his wonderful sense of humour and he makes me feel valued and cared for with his kindness and concern.

With regard to his past and the crime he committed, it is not something we often discuss.

I know what he did and who he was, but when I went into this,

I chose to communicate with him as the man he is today, not the man he was 10 years ago.

Tahua and I were lucky enough to meet and spend 6 hours of precious time together last November. I beat him at rock, paper, scissors!, he taught me how to spell my name in sign language and we smiled and laughed so much that our cheeks ached. My heart felt heavy when I saw on his face all the regret he had for the past

and I was touched by his concern for me when I shed tears on our last visit.

If Tahua were to be executed I would want to be there as a witness for him and his family. I see our friendship as a forever thing - till one of us breathes our last breathe. Tahua is a part of me and

I love him like a member of my family. I have our photo on my mirror and I think of him every day.

I believe that if the death penalty were abolished and Tahua had the opportunity to work towards a second chance - to share his experiences and who he is today - he could make a real difference to the lives of young people.